


The Ice Mage

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Category: Frozen (2013), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Elsa is a muggleborn witch, Gen, Hogwarts AU, Modern AU, Tags to be added as necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1734929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Dear Miss Arendelle, the letter read, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. </i>
</p><p>Terrified of magical powers she is unable to control, eleven year-old Elsa is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But can the school of magic really help her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're a Witch, Elsa

**Author's Note:**

> _I don't know if I'll end up completing this, so you've been warned. But the lack of Frozen Hogwarts AUs has been bugging me for ages, so here you go._

It was a frosty, blustery morning, the snow lying heavy on the ground, the air sharp and cold. The world was silent and still, the sun barely over the horizon, and barely a creature stirred. In the house on the hill, however, a window was open despite the chilly air, and a girl was sitting at the window seat, staring out at the brightening sky.

The girl was tall for her age, with long, white-blonde hair and a pensive expression. She was only wearing a light pair of pyjamas, and her feet were bare: but she didn’t seem to notice the cold seeping in through the window. The only apparent concession to the cold was the pair of gloves she was wearing.

Her name was Elsa Arendelle, and today was her eleventh birthday.

Elsa stared out the window at the frozen landscape beyond, deep in thought. She wasn’t sure why she’d woken up so early today; perhaps it was from a sense of excitement, although there wasn’t really much to be excited about. Elsa’s birthdays weren’t particularly festive.

To be fair, it wasn’t her parents’ fault. Elsa rubbed her gloved hands together, remembering. For other children birthdays were occasions of glee and celebration, an excuse to have all their friends over and play games and generally have a good time socialising. For Elsa, the anniversary of her birth was always quieter: she had no school friends that she could invite over, being home-schooled; and even if she had, it wouldn’t have been safe to spend too much time around them. They might see something strange, or perhaps even touch Elsa by accident, and then what might happen?

Elsa shivered a little at the thought. Her powers were growing by the day, and anything Elsa touched with her bare hands was immediately covered with ice. Even wearing the gloves, Elsa still had accidents far too frequently. She didn’t even dare accept her parents hugs any longer, too afraid of hurting them by accident.

The truth was, that improbable and fantastical though the notion seemed, Elsa had, well, _magic._ She had the power to produce ice and snow whenever she liked – the problem was, she produced it the rest of the time, too, if she wasn’t careful. Her parents hadn’t believed what was happening, at first: they’d been incredulous, then fearful as they realised the danger that Elsa posed to herself and others. Her parents loved her, Elsa knew that: but they didn’t know how to deal with her powers, and Elsa knew that, too. It wasn’t as though they could ask anyone for help: either no one would believe them, or worse, someone might try and take Elsa away to find out how her powers worked. No one could ever find out the truth, or something terrible might happen.

So, instead of going to school like her sister Anna, Elsa stayed at home, and was home-schooled. She wasn’t allowed to play with the other children, or to go anywhere that she might be forced to interact with others. And instead of having a party to celebrate her birthday, Elsa stayed at home, where it was quiet and familiar and dull, while her parents gave her presents like books to read and video tapes to watch. Most birthdays she went downstairs and watched movies on the VCR until Anna came home: then, as she heard the car pulling into the driveway, she’d creep back upstairs to her bedroom, where she would sit and listen to the sound of Anna laughing and talking animatedly downstairs.

Elsa always wished that she could go downstairs and join her little sister, who always sounded so cheerful and like so much fun: but it wasn’t safe, Elsa told herself. It was much safer to shut herself away in her room where she couldn’t hurt anybody, especially not Anna. It had been a year since she’d almost killed her little sister with her powers, but the memory hadn’t faded, not for Elsa. Anna had been so still, and so pale and cold; she’d been in the hospital for days afterwards, and Elsa had been terrified that Anna was going to die. Fortunately Anna had pulled through, but Elsa had learned a harsh lesson: anyone who got too close risked being affected by Elsa’s powers, and if Elsa didn’t want to hurt people, she needed to stay away.

So here Elsa sat at the window seat, staring out at the dawn light, wishing herself a happy birthday.

There was the sound of light feet in the hallway, and then a gentle knocking on Elsa’s door.

“Elsa?” asked Anna’s voice. “Are you awake?”

Elsa went still, her eyes flying to the door, relaxing as she saw that it was still locked.

“Elsa?” Anna tried again. The door handle rattled, but the door stayed shut. “Elsa, are you in there?” Anna’s voice was hopeful, and Elsa winced.

“Go away, Anna,” Elsa replied, and there was a short silence on the other side of the door.

“I made you a card,” Anna said tentatively. “Since it’s your birthday. Happy birthday.”

Elsa didn’t answer, and there was the sound of shuffling in the hallway.

“Well, bye,” said Anna sadly, and Elsa heard her footsteps retreat from the door. Only when Elsa was sure that Anna was gone did she walk across to the door and open it.

Sitting on the carpet outside her bedroom door was a homemade birthday card, with a childish scribble of two figures in dresses on the front. One was white-haired, the other red-haired, and both were wearing party hats and huge crayon smiles. Elsa picked up the card and walked back into her room, shutting and re-locking the door behind her.

It was a nice card, Elsa thought wistfully. She put the card on her dresser, next to a collection of similar home-made cards. Then she turned back to the window seat, and settled down to read _The Last Unicorn_ until it was time for breakfast.

* * *

Shortly before breakfast, Elsa changed out of her pyjamas, brushed and braided her hair, and went downstairs to the kitchen.

Anna was already there, as well as their mother and father, and at the sight of Elsa Anna threw herself off her chair towards her sister. Elsa held out her hands in fright, trying to ward Anna away, but Anna wasn’t stopping and the terror rose up in Elsa’s throat –

“ANNA!”

Anna stopped dead at their father’s roar. Elsa began to breathe again.

“What have we told you about touching your sister?” her father demanded, his expression stern.

Anna looked down at her feet, looking defeated.

“I was only going to give her a hug,” Anna mumbled.

“Anna, you know your sister doesn’t like to be touched,” their mother said, as Elsa took a seat at the kitchen table.

“Sorry, Elsa,” Anna said, looking ashamed, as she climbed back onto her chair. “I only wanted to say happy birthday.”

“It’s fine,” said Elsa, trying to keep her expression composed, never letting on how much she would have liked one of Anna’s hugs, if only there wasn’t such a risk involved.

“Did you see my card?” Anna chirped, brightening.

“I did,” said Elsa. “Thank you.”

“Happy birthday Elsa,” her mother said, smiling.

“How does it feel to be eleven?” her father asked.

“Not very different from being ten,” Elsa answered, pouring herself some cereal.

“What are you going to do today?” Anna wanted to know.

Elsa shrugged.

“Watch a video, probably.”

“That sounds fun,” Anna sighed. “I wish _I_ didn’t have to go to school. I would stay home _all_ day and watch movies and eat chocolate. Mmm, chocolate.”

“I do actually study while you’re gone, you know,” Elsa informed her. “Just because I don’t go to school doesn’t mean I don’t do schoolwork.”

Anna made a face.

“That doesn’t sound like fun. At least at school I get to see my friends.” She looked at Elsa. “Do you have any friends, Elsa?”

“Anna!” Elsa’s mother exclaimed.

“What?” Anna asked, as Elsa stared into her cereal. “I was just asking!”

“And how do you think your question made Elsa feel?” Elsa’s mother asked pointedly.

Anna’s eyes widened in realisation.

“Ohhhh.” She looked at Elsa apologetically. “Sorry.”

Elsa didn’t answer. Anna shifted uncomfortably.

“Elsa?”

“Leave me alone, Anna. I just want to eat my breakfast.”

“I’m really sorry,” said Anna, trying to make eye contact, while Elsa refused to look away from her cereal, eating resolutely. “Will you forgive me? _Please?_ Please, Elsa? _Elsaaaa_.”

Elsa rolled her eyes.

“Alright, alright, I forgive you.”

Anna beamed.

Their discussion was halted by the sound of the doorbell. Elsa’s parents looked at each other in surprise.

“Who could that be?” Elsa’s father wondered.

“I’ll go see who it is,” said Elsa’s mother, leaving the room to go answer the door.

Anna started to slide off her chair, no doubt to go and see who was at the door, but her father pinned her with a look that made her stay where she was. Pouting, Anna slumped over the table.

“I want to see who’s at the door!”

“We’ll find out in a minute,” said her father. “Now finish your breakfast.”

With a huge sigh, Anna did as instructed.

“Agdar?” Elsa’s mother appeared in the doorway, looking worried.

“Idunn?” Elsa’s father stood from his chair. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a woman at the door,” said Elsa’s mother, an anxious hand at her throat. “I think… I think we should hear what she has to say.”

“Why? Idunn, what’s going on?” Elsa’s father looked concerned at his wife’s obvious distress.

Elsa’s mother swallowed.

“She’s here about Elsa. The woman at the door. She says… she says she’s a witch.”

“A witch?” Anna piped up. “Is she ugly?”

“A _witch?_ ” Elsa echoed, surprised and worried. “What does she want with _me?_ ”

Elsa’s mother took a deep breath, visibly steadying herself.

“She says that she’s here to offer Elsa a place at a school for young witches and wizards.”

There was a long silence, as Elsa’s parents stared at each other, and Elsa and Anna stared at them with wide eyes.

“That is so cool!” Anna squealed, breaking the silence.

“I… we should talk to this woman,” said Elsa’s father, putting his hands on his wife’s shoulders reassuringly. “Elsa, Anna, stay here.” He and Elsa’s mother disappeared down the front hallway.

As soon as they were gone, Anna slipped off her chair and began creeping towards the door.

“Anna, Papa said to stay here,” Elsa said firmly, but Anna paid no attention and crept into the hallway. “ _Anna!_ ”

Feeling exasperation, Elsa slid off her own chair and went after her sister. She spotted Anna crouching in the hallway, listening to the conversation going on in the living room.

“Anna!” Elsa whispered furiously. “Get back here! Papa told us to stay in the kitchen!”

“Shh,” Anna said, clearly not paying attention. “I’m trying to listen here.”

Elsa stalked down the hallway, intent on convincing her little sister to return to the kitchen, but the sound of her own name made her pause.

“So the strange power Elsa has… you can teach her to control it?” Elsa’s mother sounded like she wanted to cry.

“Certainly,” said a brisk female voice, with a distinct Scottish accent. “Accidental magic is not unusual in young witches and wizards, but with training, the incidents usually cease.”

“She can help with your magic?” Anna whispered.

“Shh!” Elsa hissed back, trying to hear what else her parents and the stranger were saying.

“Do you have some proof of this?” Elsa’s father asked. “I mean, this story, of a school for witches and wizards – you have to admit it sounds…”

“Improbable?” finished the brisk voice. “Yes, most muggles find it so. Nonetheless, most of them also find a demonstration quite convincing.”

“What do you…” Elsa’s mother started, before gasping audibly. “Oh my! How – you just –”

“Turned into a cat, yes,” said the brisk voice. Elsa exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Anna. “It’s an uncommon skill, which takes several years to learn. Perhaps I could speak to your daughter?”

“Of course,” said Elsa’s father, and Elsa and Anna scrambled for the kitchen. They sat down at their seats just as their father appeared in the doorway. He gave them a suspicious look, but only said,  “Elsa. Come with me.”

Obediently Elsa followed him down the hallway into the living room. There was a woman that Elsa had never seen before standing in the middle of the room. She was tall, and dressed head to toe in black, from the black robes to the black cloak around her shoulders. Her expression was stern, but not unkind. Elsa stared up at her without saying a word, and felt her father rest his hands on her shoulders.

“Miss Arendelle,” said the woman. “I am Professor McGonagall, and I am from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“There’s really a school for magic?” Elsa blurted. Professor McGonagall smiled.

“There is indeed.” She pulled something out of a pocket, and held it out to Elsa. It was a letter, with Elsa’s name on it. “This belongs to you.”

Feeling a sense of excitement intermingled with anxiety, Elsa took the letter, and opened it.

 _Dear Miss Arendelle,_ the letter read, _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins 1 September._

Elsa looked up in dismay at that.

“I can’t start until _September?_ ” she protested. “But that’s months away!”

“September?” Elsa’s mother repeated. “Please – she needs help before then! We’re at our wits end already on how to keep people safe!”

“Safe?” Professor McGonagall questioned sharply. “Safe from what?”

“From my magic,” Elsa said, and to her horror, found that tears were welling up. She sniffed.

“Elsa’s powers grow stronger every day,” said Elsa’s father. “Last year, there was an accident, and Elsa’s powers almost killed our other daughter, Anna. We’ve tried to keep Elsa separate from everyone else since then, but it’s only a matter of time before her powers grow completely out of control.”

Professor McGonagall’s mouth had turned very thin.

“Mr Arendelle,” she said. “Perhaps you could explain to me the nature of Elsa’s accidental magic.”

Elsa looked up at her father. He took a deep breath.

“Elsa, take off your gloves.”

Elsa’s eyes widened in fright.

“No,” she shrank away, “I can’t–”

“Elsa, she needs to see what your powers do,” Elsa’s father said patiently. “It will be alright, I promise. Come on, now.” He glanced at Elsa’s mother. “Idunn, can you get a glass of water, please?”

Slowly Elsa pulled off her gloves. Her mother returned with a glass of water, and put it down on the coffee table.

“Elsa.” Her father’s voice was gentle. “Show Professor McGonagall what your magic does.”

With shaking hands, Elsa reached out towards the glass of water. The tip of her finger barely touched the glass, but with a quiet rushing noise not only the glass of water, but the entire coffee table was suddenly encased in ice.

“Great Merlin!” Professor McGonagall gasped. She was staring at Elsa in an alarmed way, and appeared thoroughly discomposed. “How long…” She didn’t seem able to finish the sentence.

“She’s had these powers since she was small,” Elsa’s mother responded. “It wasn’t so much a problem at first, but… the effects kept getting stronger, until Elsa couldn’t control them any longer.”

“She can’t go to school, she can’t interact with anyone outside the family, she can’t even go near her sister for fear of what might happen,” said Elsa’s father. “Please. Help us. We can’t wait until September.”

“I – I will see what I can do,” Professor McGongall promised, pulling herself together. Her eyes were full of a deep pity as they rested on Elsa. “I make no promises – we’re already two and a half months into the term – but I’ll speak with the headmaster. You’re quite right that this can’t continue.”

“Can I put my gloves back on now?” Elsa asked in a small voice. Her father nodded, and Elsa hastily pulled them back on. She felt more secure while she was wearing the gloves.

“I will get back to you as soon as I can,” said Professor McGonagall. “Everything that Elsa requires for school is within the letter I gave her. If the headmaster agrees to accept Elsa within the current school term, I will take her to get her supplies myself.”

“Thank you,” said Elsa’s mother. “You have no idea how much this means to us. We had no idea who to turn to.”

“I shall do what I can,” said Professor McGonagall. “Good day.”

Elsa’s father showed Professor McGonagall to the door. As soon as the door was closed he turned to Elsa’s mother, and they exchanged looks. There was worry in their expressions, but there was also hope, and a measure of relief.

Elsa wasn’t sure how she felt. She was excited and apprehensive at the thought of attending a magic school, dismayed at the possibility that she might be forced to wait until September, and wondering at the realisation that there were other people like her out there. Did they all have powers like hers?

“You’re going to magic school!” said Anna, bursting into the room. “That’s so cool! Are you excited?”

“Anna,” her father asked sternly, “were you eavesdropping?”

Anna froze.

“Um, maybe a little?” she admitted. Elsa’s father sighed.

“Go finish your breakfast,” he said, and glanced at his watch. “Idunn, I’m late for work –”

“Go,” said Elsa’s mother. “We can discuss this tonight, when you come home.”

“Do you really think they can help me control my powers?” Elsa asked her mother, as her father went to grab his briefcase. Elsa’s mother brushed a gentle hand over Elsa’s hair.

“I hope so, darling,” Elsa’s mother said. “I hope so.”  
 


	2. Meeting Professor Dumbledore

**Chapter Two**

After breakfast, Elsa opened her birthday presents, and then spent the next few hours in front of the TV, watching videos. Her mind wasn’t really concentrating on what she was watching, however. Instead, Elsa was thinking about this morning, and her meeting with Professor McGonagall. She still wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she found herself hoping that the school accepted her early. If Hogwarts – what a strange name for a school, Elsa thought – could help her control her magic… help her so that she never had to worry about freezing anyone or anything unintentionally ever again… it would be more than Elsa had ever dreamed of.

That afternoon, as Elsa heard the car pull into the driveway, she went up to her bedroom as usual, closing and locking the door behind her. Downstairs she heard Anna’s animated voice, then hasty footsteps on the stairs. A moment later there was a knock on the door.

“Elsa?” Anna’s voice asked. “Are you in there?”

Elsa took a seat at her desk near the door, and for once, instead of staying silent or telling Anna to go away, she said, “I’m here.”

There was a quiet thump outside the door, like someone sitting down without ceremony, and a slight thud against the door, as though someone had leaned the back of their head against it.

“Did you have a good birthday?” Anna asked. Elsa shrugged, even though Anna couldn’t see her.

“It was okay,” she replied. Aside from the visit from Professor McGonagall in the morning, it hadn’t been very different from her last few birthdays. Elsa could remember a time when her birthday had been an occasion for fun and delight, but that seemed like a long time ago, now. “I opened my presents, and then I watched some movies.”

“Did you have fun?” Anna asked, and Elsa rubbed her hands together uneasily.

“I guess,” she said finally. “But it would have been nice to have a party, like when I was little.”

Leaving her chair, Elsa crossed to the door and sat, leaning back against it. She closed her eyes.

“Sometimes… sometimes I just wish that I could be like everyone else. Do what everyone else does, without living in fear every moment that someone might discover my secret. I wish – I wish I could live without these gloves, without hurting people.”

Elsa clutched her hands to her chest, hunching in on herself.

“I wish I could just live my life,” she whispered, barely loud enough for Anna to hear through the door.

There was a moment’s silence from the other side of the door.

“Well, you’re going to magic school, aren’t you?” Anna asked hesitantly. “Maybe they’ll be able to help.” Her voice lightened. “And then you can help me build a snowman, like you used to.”

Elsa gave a small laugh, in spite of herself.

“I’d like that,” she said honestly, but her face fell. “If they let me start school early. Otherwise I can’t go until September, and who knows what will happen before then. September’s _ages_ away.”

“Come on!” said Anna. “Why wouldn’t they let you start early? I mean, you clearly have _awesome_ magic. Why wouldn’t they want a witch like you?”

Witch. Elsa turned the word over in her head. It still felt strange, to think of herself as a witch. In the stories, witches were always evil or wicked, plotting to do terrible things. Elsa didn’t want to be the witch in the stories.

“I don’t want to be a witch,” she mused. “I’d rather be a sorceress. Sorceresses aren’t always evil in stories, the way witches are. Why aren’t there ever any good witches in stories?”

“Because then they don’t call them witches?” Anna suggested. “I don’t know. But this isn’t a story, Elsa.”

“Isn’t it?” said Elsa. “You don’t know that. Maybe we’re all just stories someone is telling somewhere.” She sighed, her mood falling. “And I’m the witch in this one.”

“Or maybe you’re the good witch who saves the hero,” Anna said staunchly.

“Maybe.”

There was silence, and Elsa sat there, thinking about what it would mean, to be a witch and go to school with other witches and wizards. (What was the difference between a wizard and a witch? she thought. She’d have to ask Professor McGonagall.) Maybe she’d meet someone else with powers like hers. Maybe, she might even meet… a friend. It was a nice thought, even if, right now, it seemed unrealistic.

“Elsa?” Anna’s voice spoke on the other side of the door.

“What, Anna?”

“Do you like me?” Anna’s voice was uncertain.

Elsa’s eyes opened in surprise.

“Of course I like you,” she said. “You’re my sister.”

“Then why do you never come out of your room when I’m here?” Anna persisted. “Why do you never play with me, or even talk to me anymore?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” said Elsa, surprised that Anna had to ask. She’d thought Anna had understood. “Don’t you see? I’ve already hurt you once. I can’t do it again!”

“But that was ages ago,” said Anna. “And it was an accident.”

“An accident that could easily happen again,” said Elsa, with finality. “And that’s why I can’t be near you anymore.”

“But I miss you,” said Anna. “I never see you. Don’t you miss _me_ , Elsa?”

Elsa bit her lip, refusing to admit that she, too, missed her sister.

“I can’t be near you, Anna,” she said instead.

“Then just _talk_ to me!” Anna protested. “Like we’re doing now. You’re not hurting me, but we’re talking.”

Elsa knew that Anna was right. She didn’t tell Anna that somehow, it was easier to shut Anna out completely than talk to her without being able to touch her, or play with her. Elsa frowned at her own thoughts. When she thought of it that way, her refusal to even talk to Anna did sound kind of selfish.

“Alright,” she said finally. “We can talk, like this. But only with the door shut, okay?”

“Okay!” Anna sounded happy just to get that much, and Elsa felt a pang of sadness and guilt. “Let me tell you what happened at school today…”

Still leaning back against the door, Elsa closed her eyes again, and listened to everything her little sister had to say.

* * *

The next day Elsa was at her desk reading her schoolbooks when she heard her mother call from downstairs.

“Elsa! There’s someone here to see you!”

No one ever came to see Elsa. She immediately thought of Professor McGonagall, and her heart began beating faster. Had the Professor come to tell her that she could start at Hogwarts early? Or had she come to say that Elsa had to wait until September?

Elsa hastily straightened her skirt and ran downstairs. Her mother was in the hallway, and ushered her into the living room. Elsa stopped, and stared.

There was a tall, very thin, very old man standing in the living room. He was wearing a bright yellow suit, and he had quite the longest beard that Elsa had ever seen. Above a crooked nose, bright, intelligent blue eyes looked at Elsa kindly, but keenly.

Elsa knew immediately, and without a doubt, that he was a wizard.

“Ah, you must be Elsa Arendelle,” said the wizard, his eyes twinkling. “Do you mind if I take a seat?”

“N-not at all,” Elsa stammered, quite awed.

“Thank you,” said the wizard, taking a seat in one of the armchairs. “Ah, how comfortable. Miss Arendelle, I am Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Elsa. Her mother hovered in the doorway.

Professor Dumbledore only beamed at her.

“Please, take a seat as well,” he said, gesturing to the armchair opposite. “It will make conversing much easier.”

Feeling nervous, despite how friendly Professor Dumbledore clearly was, Elsa walked over and sat in the indicated armchair. She stared at Professor Dumbledore.

“Now,” said Professor Dumbledore, peering at her over the top of his spectacles, “I understand from Professor McGonagall that you’ve been having some problems with your magic.”

“I can’t control it,” Elsa explained, wringing her hands a little. “It just _happens_.”

“I see,” said Professor Dumbledore. “Professor McGonagall explained to me your little demonstration yesterday, but I admit to being curious. Perhaps you could show me what happens, precisely, so that I can see for myself?”

Elsa gave him an anxious look, but Professor Dumbledore only looked at her with an expectant gaze. Elsa swallowed.

“Okay.” She pulled off one of her gloves, and leaning right forward, reached out to touch the coffee table that sat between them. In an instant it was coated in ice, just as it had been the day before.

“Remarkable,” said the Professor. “Really, quite remarkable.” He regarded the ice thoughtfully, then withdrew a long stick from his sleeve, and tapped the coffee table.

Nothing happened.

Professor Dumbledore’s eyebrows flew up, and Elsa got the strong impression that he was startled.

“Hmm,” he murmured, frowning at the coffee table. “Really quite extraordinary.” The frown disappeared, and he looked back at Elsa. “I had thought to remove the ice you conjured, but alas, it seems that your magic is immune to my own.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Elsa asked worriedly.

“Not necessarily,” said Professor Dumbledore. “Although it makes your lack of control that much more dangerous, if your magic cannot be reversed.”

“Oh,” said Elsa, hanging her head.

“I believe that it is of the utmost importance that you begin at Hogwarts as soon as possible,” Professor Dumbledore added, and Elsa looked up quickly, to see Professor Dumbledore watching her with a grave expression. “I admit that in all my years of teaching, I have never seen a case like yours, but I am sure that with time and research, we shall find a way to help you gain control over your powers. Tell me, have you ever performed any other magic, which did not involve ice in some way?”

Elsa shook her head.

“Most unusual,” the Professor commented. He stood, and Elsa quickly stood up as well, slipping her glove back on.

“Professor McGonagall will be by later this afternoon, to assist you in buying your school things,” he said, and Elsa couldn’t help her excited gasp. “She will take you to Hogwarts tomorrow, if, of course, that is agreeable to your parents.” He glanced towards the doorway, where Elsa’s mother still stood.

“Of course,” said Elsa’s mother. “Anything to get her the help she needs. Thank you so much for allowing her to start early.”

“Tomorrow?” Elsa repeated, taken aback. “I’m starting _tomorrow?_ ”

Professor Dumbledore looked down at her.

“Is there a problem, Miss Arendelle?”

“I – I was just surprised,” Elsa quickly explained, rubbing her hands together. “So I’m really going to magic school?”

Professor Dumbledore gave her a grandfatherly smile.

“You are indeed. I shall take my leave of you both in just a moment, however – if you do not mind the question, Miss Arendelle – have you always lacked control over your magical outbursts?” He looked honestly curious.

Elsa bit her lip.

“Well, not _always_ ,” she said slowly. “I used to be able to control it some of the time, but then there was the accident with Anna –”

“Your sister?” Professor Dumbledore swiftly interjected, and Elsa nodded.

“– and since then my powers just do what they want.”

“Ah,” said Professor Dumbledore, sounding as though he’d suddenly understood something. “I appreciated that the topic is no doubt a difficult one – but if you do not mind my prying further – what happened with your sister?”

Elsa looked down. Even now, the memory still filled her with terror. She held her hands to her chest.

“I – we were building a snowman,” she said haltingly, “and didn’t mean to, but I – I hit Anna with my magic.” Her hands twisted.

“Anna almost froze to death,” Elsa’s mother said quietly. “It was a miracle she pulled through.”

“I see,” said Professor Dumbledore. “I take it that since then, you have been afraid of your magical abilities?”

Elsa nodded.

“Then your lack of control makes a little more sense.” His tone was sympathetic. “I’m sorry to remind you of such a difficult incident, Miss Arendelle. However, I believe that we will be able to help you.”

Elsa looked up to see him offering her a smile. She smiled uncertainly back, and hoped that he was telling the truth.


	3. School Supplies

**Chapter Three**

Professor McGonagall came that afternoon to take Elsa to pick up her school supplies. Elsa hadn’t been sure where they were going, or how they were going to get there, but Professor McGonagall explained that they were going to the wizard shopping district.

“The method by which we are about to travel is known as Apparition,” she said, placing a hand on Elsa’s shoulder. “It is a form of instantaneous travel from one place to another.”

Elsa blinked.

“You mean like teleportation?” Elsa spent a lot of time reading, and some of her sci-fi books dealt with the concept.

“Quite,” said Professor McGonagall. “It is quite uncomfortable, but it is also the quickest and easiest way to travel. Brace yourself.”

Elsa wasn’t sure what she was bracing herself _for_ , but tried anyway. What followed was a very uncomfortable moment in which Elsa felt like she was being squeezed through a straw, and then, with a quiet _pop!_ they were standing somewhere else.

Elsa stared about her in wonder. The street in which she stood was covered with old-fashioned cobblestones, and the people who walked along it were just as strange. Some of them wore robes and cloaks, like Professor McGonagall, while others wore clothing that was just as old-fashioned as the cobblestones. A small dog with a forked tail ran after a tall man in robes, while several owls sat roosting on a shop sign proclaiming a bookstore. There was a shop selling cauldrons on one side of the street, and a store selling broomsticks on the other.

“Witches really fly on brooms?” Elsa asked doubtfully.

“Oh yes,” said Professor McGonagall. “There’s a sport we play, Quidditch, which is played entirely on brooms. You’ll find out more about that at Hogwarts, I’m sure. Come along, now, we have much to do.”

Elsa followed the Professor through the narrow, winding streets, tripping a couple of times on uneven cobblestones, walking faster to catch up with Professor McGonagall as the woman went striding forth through the crowd. Professor McGonagall stopped outside an imposing white building with burnished bronze doors.

“This is Gringotts, the wizard’s bank,” she told Elsa. “It is run by goblins. It is of the utmost importance that you are polite, and above all, _do not_ try to steal anything while you are there. The goblins take a… severe view of theft.”

“I wouldn’t!” Elsa protested indignantly; but the Professor was already sweeping forward, up the white stone stairs, and Elsa had no choice but to hurry after her. Inside was a vast marble hall, and Elsa followed Professor McGonagall towards the counter on the opposite side. The hall was enormous, and quiet, and Elsa felt small and intimidated as she made her way across it.

The goblin at the counter eyed her as she and Professor McGonagall lined up in front of – him? Her? Them? – and Elsa looked back nervously, unable to keep herself from staring at the strange being.

“Business?” asked the goblin.

“I have a student who wishes to exchange muggle currency for galleons and sickles,” said Professor McGonagall. “Miss Arendelle?”

Elsa started slightly.

“Er–”

“Where is the money you wish to convert?” asked the goblin. Elsa silently handed him the coin-purse full of money that her mother had given her. The goblin tipped it out onto the counter-top and counted through it.

“Hmm,” he said. “That will convert to forty galleons, minus the exchange fee of ten sickles. Is that acceptable?” He looked at Elsa, who remembered Professor McGonagall’s admonition to be polite.

“Yes, thank you.”

The goblin opened a drawer, and counted out thirty-nine gold coins and seven silver ones. Elsa’s coin-purse was clearly too small, but the goblin pulled out a small cloth bag and tipped the coins into the bag instead, tying it with a length of cord. He held out both the coin-purse and the bag full of coins. Elsa took them both, and thanked him.

“Any other business?” asked the goblin, and Elsa looked at Professor McGonagall, who was observing her critically.

“No thank you, that will be all,” said the Professor. “Come along, Miss Arendelle.”

What followed felt, in retrospect, a little like being caught in a brisk and orderly whirlwind. Elsa was whisked off to be fitted for robes and a cloak (without any risk of anyone touching her thanks to the self-measuring tape, much to her relief), to buy potions equipment, and to buy a large number of books with peculiar titles. These Professor McGonagall tapped with her wand so that they became lighter for Elsa to carry.

Last of all, they went to the wand shop, Ollivander’s.

It was a tiny, shabby little place, and there was barely enough room for Elsa and Professor McGonagall to both squeeze into the space in front of the shop counter. No one was there to serve them. Thousands of narrow boxes were piled up to the ceiling. The store smelt of dust, and some spicy, prickly smell that made the hairs on the back of Elsa’s neck rise up. The very air felt still, adding to the heavy weight of silence within the store. Elsa rubbed her hands together nervously.

“Good afternoon,” said a soft voice. Elsa jumped, and when she looked down, frost glittered at her fingers. She hastily wiped the ice crystals off on her skirt.

“Garrick,” said Professor McGonagall briskly, apparently unaffected by the creepy way the man in front of them had simply _appeared._ “I have brought a student who requires a wand.”

The pale-eyed old man standing in front of her looked at Elsa, his eyes wide and unblinking. It made Elsa feel even more uneasy.

“You, I have not seen before,” he said, still in that soft voice. “Rather late to be beginning the term, hmm? Ah, well.” His eyes fell on Elsa’s gloves. “You shall need to remove those.”

“No! I can’t!” Elsa said in alarm, shrinking back.

“That would be… inadvisable,” Professor McGonagall said reluctantly. “Miss Arendelle’s magic affects all that she touches. Unless you wish her to destroy every wand you give her…”

“Dear me,” said the old man. “That won’t do at  all. I suppose we will have to trust that the correct wand will make itself known, despite the gloves.” He tutted to himself. “Well then, young lady. Which is your wand arm?”

“Um, I’m left-handed, if that’s what you mean,” Elsa answered, looking at him in bewilderment.

“Hold out your arm,” the old man commanded, and hesitantly, Elsa did so. The old man proceeded to measure Elsa’s arm in several different ways, before measuring around her head, taking not to touch her while doing so. He talked as he measured.

“Every wand in my shop is unique, Miss Arendelle. Each wand contains a core of a powerful magical substance, which will allow you to channel your magic. The wand chooses the wizard, and you will never get such good results with another wizard’s wand.”

He let go of the tape measure, which continued to measure Elsa on its own, and began rummaging through some of the narrow boxes stacked throughout the room. Elsa blinked.

“A wand allows me to channel my magic? But what if I can channel my magic without a wand?”

The old man stopped what he was doing, and peered at her with lamp-like eyes.

“Then that would be most unusual, indeed,” he said, and Elsa shifted uncomfortably under his unblinking stare, but didn’t look away. “It is a rare thing, wandless magic – easily differentiated from accidental magic as it is entirely under the caster’s conscious control.”

The wand-seller went back to looking through the boxes.

“That will do,” he added, and the tape measure fell to the floor. Elsa looked down at it, bemused.

“Try this, Miss Arendelle,” said the old man, holding out a short, thin stick. Elsa took it carefully.

“Go on, give it a wave,” the old man added, and Elsa did so. Nothing happened. The wand-seller immediately snatched the wand away and handed Elsa another one, which didn’t work either.

Elsa went through several wands this way, becoming increasingly more anxious as she did so. Maybe she couldn’t use a wand, she thought. Maybe her magic was too different. What if she could only do magic without a wand? Would they still let her go to Hogwarts?

The old man, on the other hand, became increasingly more cheerful the more wands Elsa went through. Finally he held out a long reddish wand.

“Cherry and yuki-onna hair, twelve inches, nice and reliable,” he said, as Elsa took the wand, and gave it a wave.

A rolling wave of ice shot forward from the wand, engulfing the counter. The wand-seller barely dodged in time. Elsa dropped the wand, backing away in horror, clutching her hands to her chest.

“No!” she said, backing into the shelf behind her. “I didn’t mean to!”

But the wand-seller was chuckling delightedly.

“It is quite alright, Miss Arendelle,” Professor McGonagall said crisply, although not unsympathetically. “It is not unusual for a young witch or wizard’s wand to react strongly the first time they use it. Now pick up your wand.”

More hesitant than ever, Elsa crept forward, and slowly picked up the wand she’d dropped. It was a nice colour, and firm rather than bendy.

“Yes, an excellent wand, that one,” said the wand-seller happily. “It will need a firm hand, but it’s a dependable wand. Six galleons.”

Elsa counted out six of the heavy gold coins, feeling rather wrung-out by the whole experience. The wand-seller disappeared into the back of the store again. Elsa looked up at Professor McGonagall.

“What about the ice?” she asked Professor McGonagall. “Professor Dumbledore tried to get rid of some of my ice this morning, and he couldn’t. Won’t it melt and go all over the wands?”

Professor McGonagall’s eyebrows rose.

“You’re quite correct. I doubt that Mr Ollivander would appreciate his wands being drenched in melt-water. Perhaps your first lesson in magic should be in undoing what you create.”

Elsa froze, her grip tightening around her wand. The Professor didn’t appear to notice.

“Repeat after me,” she said, “while keeping your wand lowered. _Evanesco._ ”

“ _Evanesco_ ,” Elsa repeated obediently. She had trouble getting the word out, and swallowed hard.

“The wand movement to match the incantation is this.” Professor McGonagall gestured with her wand. “Tap the ice, as so.”

Elsa did as she said.

“Now, try that movement while speaking the incantation,” Professor McGonagall said patiently.

Elsa raised her wand in preparation. Her hand was shaking, and she did her best to keep it steady. She took a deep breath, trying to control her sense of fear, and tapped the ice engulfing the desk, trying to imagine it disappearing.

“ _Evanesco_.”

The ice vanished. Elsa stared in astonishment, breathing hard.

“It worked!” she said in amazement, her heart suddenly feeling much lighter. Professor McGonagall patted her shoulder.

“Indeed,” was all the Professor said.


	4. Owls

**Chapter Four**

After they left the wand shop, Professor McGonagall said that if she liked, Elsa was allowed to bring one animal with her to Hogwarts.

“What kind of pets do witches and wizards have?” Elsa asked curiously.

“Useful ones, mostly,” Professor McGonagall replied. “Owls are the most common, as they are used to deliver mail, but cats are also popular. Toads were popular when I was young, but have since gone out of fashion.”

Elsa decided that whatever kind of pet she got, she definitely wasn’t getting a toad.

“May I get an owl?” she asked. “They sound useful.”

Professor McGonagall nodded, and the two of them visited Eyelops Owl Emporium, where Elsa found that she had just enough money left to purchase a snowy owl. It was a large owl, and made a _prek-prek_ sound as Elsa carried its cage to the counter to pay for it.

Elsa was rather struggling under all the packages she now carried, and was relieved when Professor McGonagall Apparated them back to her house. Professor McGonagall rang the doorbell, while Elsa tried to soothe her new owl, who had _not_ liked being Apparated.

“Elsa, is that an _owl?_ ” Elsa looked up to see her mother framed in the doorway, looking astonished.

“In the wizarding world, owls are used to deliver mail,” Professor McGonagall explained to Elsa’s mother. “This way she will be able to communicate with you while she is away at school.”

“By _owl?_ ”

“Precisely,” responded Professor McGonagall. “I will be here tomorrow at eight o’clock to take Miss Arendelle to Hogwarts. I will see you then. Miss Arendelle, I expect your trunk to be packed and waiting by the door, and to find you wearing your uniform.”

“Yes, Professor,” said Elsa. Professor McGonagall nodded to her and her mother, and disappeared with a _pop._

Elsa’s owl let out a disgruntled _prek-prek_ , and Elsa’s mother took the cage from her.

“How many supplies did you buy?” she asked. “You look like a pack mule, laden down with all those packages.” She took a couple of the ones on the top of the pile, which made things easier for Elsa. Once Elsa got inside, she put her packages down just inside the door. With a groan she stretched out her arms, which were aching.

“Ugh, Professor McGonagall lightened and shrank half the things I bought, and they were still heavy,” she complained. She looked up to see her mother looking at the owl through the bars of its cage.

“Do witches really send mail by owl?” her mother asked doubtfully.

“Apparently,” said Elsa, taking the cage from her. “I guess they’re like carrier pigeons, or something.”

She set the cage down, and opened the door. The owl regarded her.

“Hello there,” Elsa told the owl. “I’m Elsa. I’m your new owner. Uh, I got you some owl treats at the store, but the assistant said you’ll mostly hunt for your own food?”

The owl made what sounded like an affirmative noise.

“Okay then,” Elsa said, wondering if the owl was intelligent enough to understand what she was saying. It was possibly a magical owl, after all. “How do you feel about the name Gerda?”

“ _Prek-prek_ ,” said the owl.

“Gerda it is, then,” said Elsa. She looked up to see her mother staring at her. “What? She’s a wizard owl, Mama. I think she understands more than normal owls.”

“Apparently,” Elsa’s mother echoed faintly. She sighed, and shook her head, looking down at Elsa’s pile of packages. “You’re going to need a suitcase. I think we still have one, in the wardrobe in the spare bedroom–”

“Is that Elsa?” a bright voice called, and Anna came thudding down the stairs. “Elsa! You’re back! Did you – wait, is that an _owl?_ ” She stopped and stared, distracted from her questions for the moment.

“Her name’s Gerda,” Elsa explained, “and she’s going to deliver mail for me while I’m away at Hogwarts. Aren’t you, little one?” she asked the owl.

Gerda made the _prek-prek_ noise again, and fluttered up to rest on top of her cage, where she sat looking still and wise.

“Wow! Can I pet her?” Anna asked, staring in wide-eyed fascination.

Elsa’s mother shook her head.

“I wouldn’t, Anna. You don’t know–”

But Anna had already reached forward and was gently stroking Gerda’s head. Gerda leaned into the touch, apparently enjoying it.

Elsa and her mother exchanged a speaking look.

“One day your impulsiveness is going to get you hurt, Anna,” said her mother severely, but Anna was too busy cooing at Gerda to pay much attention. Elsa’s mother sighed again.

“Take your packages upstairs,” she told Elsa. “I’m going to go see if we have a suitcase you can use.”

“So what was it like?” Anna asked. “Did you meet other witches and wizards? Ooh, did you see magic?”

“Why are you so excited about all this?” Elsa asked. “It’s not like you haven’t seen magic before.”

“Well, yeah, but that was a long time ago,” Anna replied reasonably. “Besides, you can’t tell me you don’t find a whole civilisation of secret witches exciting. Admit it.”

“I guess it’s a little exciting,” Elsa saw no reason not to agree. “And I saw some pretty cool things. And look, I own a magic wand now!”

She held it out for Anna to see. Anna reached out to touch it, and Elsa pulled it back.

“Uh-uh. Look, don’t touch.”

“But Elsa –”

“ _Look_ , Anna,” Elsa said sternly.

“Oh, come on!” Anna whined, stomping her foot. “It’s a magic wand! I just want to touch it for like a second!”

Elsa narrowed her eyes.

Anna stared pleadingly back.

“Ugh, _fine_.” Elsa held out the wand. “But be _careful_.”

Anna squealed in delight, and reached out to carefully touch the wand. She gave it a wave before Elsa could stop her, and pouted when nothing happened.

“I’ll have that back, thank you,” said Elsa, grabbing her wand out of Anna’s hands before Anna could do anything else, like accidentally break it.

“I want to be a witch too,” Anna complained.

“You’re not a witch,” Elsa told her. “You knew that already.”

Anna only made an irritated noise and slumped.

“It’s not fair.”

“Fair? You think it’s fair that I have to wear gloves all the time or freeze everything I touch?” Elsa asked, a bit heatedly.

Anna hung her head in shame, remembering the problems her sister had because of her magic.

“Sorry.” She peeked up at Elsa through her hair. “Are you mad at me?”

“A bit.” Elsa started to gather up all her packages so that she could carry them upstairs.

“You still love me though, right?” Anna asked, following her.

“I don’t know, you are awfully annoying,” said Elsa.

“Hey!” Anna sent her a glare, but Elsa just continued her way upstairs.

Her mother was in her room, unzipping a large suitcase. Elsa dumped the pile of packages on her bed.

“But Elsa, you don’t really think I’m annoying, right?” Anna asked, standing in the doorway. “I mean, not _me._ ”

“You are most definitely annoying,” Elsa said.

“Be that way, then,” said Anna, and left in a huff.

“You should be nicer to your sister,” Elsa’s mother chided.

“She said that it wasn’t fair that she wasn’t a witch too,” said Elsa. “What would she know of unfairness?”

Elsa’s mother brushed an affectionate hand over Elsa’s hair.

“More than you think. Neither of you have the monopoly on unfairness, you know. Both of you experience unfairness, just differently,” said Elsa’s mother. “Besides, she’s eight years old. Understanding your situation is difficult for her. She’ll understand better when she’s older. Right now, all she knows is that you’re going away somewhere new and exciting and she has to stay behind.”

“Oh,” said Elsa. She’d been so focused on the fact that Hogwarts might help her with her magic, that she hadn’t thought of how Hogwarts would look to Anna. “I guess I can see that.”

“Why don’t I start unwrapping your packages while you go apologise to your sister?” her mother suggested.

“Oh!” Elsa exclaimed, darting forward towards the bulkiest package. “That reminds me.” She tore the paper away, revealing a pile of books. “I know that the money was for my school things, but…” She held up a copy of a book entitled _The Tales of Beedle the Bard._ “I got this for Anna.”

Elsa’s mother smiled fondly as Elsa ran to her desk and picked up a pen, opening the book to write a brief message on the flyleaf.

 _To Anna_ , she wrote, _for you to read while I’m away at magic school. Love, Elsa._

Shutting the book, Elsa left her room, and walked down the hallway to Anna’s room. Anna’s door was open, and she was lying on her bed with a discontented expression. Elsa knocked on the doorframe.

“Can I come in?”

“Elsa!” Anna bounced up into a sitting position. “I knew you didn’t mean it!” She eyed the book in Elsa’s hand. “What’s that?”

“This is for you,” Elsa explained, holding out the book for Anna to see. “It’s a book of wizarding fairy-tales for you to read while I’m away.”

“You got me a present?” Anna gasped. “Oh, you _do_ love me!” She pulled the book out of Anna’s hands.

“Maybe,” Elsa demurred, rolling her eyes. But Anna was already frowning down at the book’s title.

“The _– Tales – of – Beedle_ – Beedle? That’s not a word. _– The – Bard_ ,” she read aloud. “Cool.”

“I need to go pack my things for tomorrow,” said Elsa, “but I wanted to give you this before I forgot.”

“Thank you,” said Anna. “I’ll ask Papa to read it to me every night.”

“You do that,” said Elsa. She was about to leave, but Anna’s voice stopped her.

“Elsa?”

“Yes, Anna?”

“Will you write to me, while you’re gone?” Anna’s face betrayed uncertainty.

“Of course I will,” Elsa promised. “Whenever I get the chance.”


End file.
